Written Down
by GreenShai
Summary: Kowalski is a girl... in highschool. With the weirdest classmates ever, continuing depressions about her failures and her basic frantic life, will she survive the highschool life? Rated T for Highschool humor. :) Contains KowalskixDr.Blowhole. :)
1. Obnoxious

A rather tall, lanky girl with a long brunette side braid grabbed her messenger bag and stuck her head out of the door.

"Bye mom!" she called. "I'm leaving for school."

"Bye hon," her mother called back. She had a similar build to her daughter with a brunette bob and intelligent grey eyes. She was wearing a white blouse under a smart black jacket and business skirt. "I'm going to work now. I'll pick you up at 3 at your school to go to the dentist, kay?" She blew her daughter a kiss and went back into the living room, searching for her car keys.

The girl shuddered. The word "Dentist" made chills run down her back. The girl shouldered the messenger bag and checked her appearance in the mirror. She was wearing black tights and a short black dress with long sleeves. Over the dress, wore a grey cardigan and a small heart necklace. Her navy-blue coat was opened; it was a warmer day. The girl's blue eyes were pronounced by a soft black eyeliner.

"Here goes nothing," she murmured, then headed out of the door, putting her earphones into her ears.

The classroom was noisy as the girl entered. Several boys were sitting on the table and she spotted Blowhole, an equally tall, lanky geek like her with freckles and glasses and a weird sort of fashion sense. He noticed the girl coming in and grinned at her. Next to him sat Red One, or Red, who was a short boy with chubby cheeks and long brown hair reaching his shoulder. He had folded his hands over each other and was staring into space.

"Kowalski!"

The girl turned around to see a short girl with black hair tied into a ponytail grinning at her. She was wearing black combat boots drawn up to her knees, skinny jeans and a big green sweater with a black shawl.

"Hi Skipper," Kowalski greeted her friend, setting her bag on the table she was sharing with Skipper and unpacking her books.

"So," Skipper drawled, leaning back, "I counted all the free lessons I have." She leaned forward with a smug grin. "7, baby! And you've got 3, so ha ha." Skipper didn't take any language apart from English, while Kowalski was in her 5th year of German and 2nd year of Spanish. Voluntarily, but that's something the new student Skipper didn't understand. To her, taking extra classes voluntarily was a definite sign of insanity. To Kowalski, it was just another way to broaden her horizon intellectually.

"So," Kowalski tried to change the topic. "How was your-"

"Oh, and," Skipper interrupted happily. "We don't have English today, so instead of that, I have a free lesson and you have an extra lesson of German!"

"Well, not that I mind," Kowalski shrugged. "Anyway, it's Ethics now, so…" The girl trailed off as a girl entered the class. She was smartly dressed and smelled like cigar smoke. Phil, short for Phillipa, had been smoking again. As usual.

"Hi Phil," Kowalski greeted the girl. Phil turned to smile at her in lost thought. She wasn't very talkative, and although she was a good student, Kowalski doubted that she was very intelligent. Phil had left Kowalski and Skipper, reaching Mason, a blonde with tanned skin. Mason was one of Kowalski's best friends. They often met up at McDonalds, with Kowalski complaining about the calories, to talk about current events in the world over some McCappuchino or however it was called.

"So, anyway, and tomorrow you have to stay a day longer than I do, because of your Spanish lesson," Skipper went on. "And then-"

"The teacher's here," Kowalski interrupted quickly and stood up with the rest of the class. The Ethics teacher was a definite fan of purple; she always wore something purple, today a purple scarf. Her hair was cut into a buzz cut, which Kowalski found rather odd.

"Today, class," the teacher started, "I thought it would be fun to go to the computer lab and do some research." Kowalski grinned and jumped up, grabbing her bag.

"Let's run, Skipper!" she hastily whispered, watching some of the boys and a girl, who always posted pictures of her ballet dancing on Facebook, jump up.

"Why?" Skipper deliberately stood up slowly, getting her bag. Kowalski helped her pack, then shoved the girl in front of her.

"We have to get the best seats," she explained, while they were hurrying along the hallway. "That means we need to get seats in the back, assuring us easy access to Facebook, Youtube and other social websites without the teacher noticing. "

"Since when are you on Facebook?" Skipper wondered. "But that is so cool! I have like 831 friends on there!"

"Uh," Kowalski stammered. "It's, well, I don't have THAT many friends…"

"How many?"

"104."

"Hahahahahah, suckah!"

Kowalski groaned. Why had she just told Skipper she had a hundred and four friends when there was a 98% chance that she would be made fun of by the extroverted girl? They reached the computer lab and Skipper stared forlornly at all the computers in front of her.

"So…"

"So we sit down at one," Kowalski encouraged the girl, sitting down at one in the back row, herself. Skipper sat down next to her and logged in, using her birthdate. "Perfect," Kowalski grinned. "So…" she trailed off as she stared at the site Skipper was on.

"Is that… what is that?"

"That is a government insured website, on which I luckily gained an account on, because I am a secret agent."

"Uh, no, that's like Danish Facebook," Kowalski rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, uhm, I lived in Denmark for a while."

"Really? Sprecken du Dänisch?"

"What?" Skipper stared dumbfoundly at Kowalski.

"Uh, no, that was Danish, you know," Kowalski grinned.

"No, that was German," Skipper glared at Kowalski. "And yes, I speak Danish."

"Great," Kowalski said, turning to her computer. She put her fingertips to the keyboard and typed in one of her favorite websites, a chatroom for intellectuals.

_JigglesLove96: Hey, how are you? :)_

_LittleRedRidingHood just entered the chatroom._

_LitteRedRidingHood: Doing okay. Still have depressions._

_JigglesLove96: Not getting better? :(_

_LittleRedRidingHood: Nope. _

_LittleRedRidingHood: I've started cutting myself again._

_JigglesLove96: Shit. :(_

_LittleRedRidingHood: Ya. :/_

"What are you doing?" Skipper chirruped next to Kowalski.

"Aaah," Kowalski stifled a scream, then quickly covered the computer screen with her arms.

"Classified, huh?" Skipper smirked. "Well, chatting rooms are stupid and your little red riding hood should go see a mentor, not talk to someone she, he?, doesn't know."

"Skipper," Kowalski drawled out her friend's name. "I like it, you don't have to, right?"

"Right," Skipper turned back to her Danish Facebook.

_JigglesLove96: Gotta go, sorry. :/ Talk to you later, though?_

_LittleRedRidingHood: Sure. :) Noonish, sound good?_

_JigglesLove96: No, sorry, how about evening?_

_LittleRedRidingHood: Deal. ;) Bye!_

_JigglesLove96: Bye!_

Kowalski sighed, shutting the website down and looked at her worksheet.

"What are the four main religions of the world?" Oh well… she typed the question in, as she murmured it barely audibly. Somehow Skipper's sharp ears caught it, though.

"You're not seriously typing the question in?" The girl laughed. Kowalski groaned.


	2. Romeo and Juliet

When Kowalski entered the classroom, she could tell something was wrong. The drama room was the same as always, with a blue carpet floor and a small wooden stage. The class was huddled in groups, boys and girl mixed, so Kowalski suspected their groups were chosen by the drama teacher, Ms. Stick. She joined Skipper's group, which was reviewing a printed piece of paper.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Kowalski asked.

"No," a girl jerked her head towards the wooden stage. "You're in that group." Kowalski looked over to the stage to see three guys waiting for her. One of the guys was Blowhole. Kowalski was befriended with the guy, but his perverted mind often got on her nerves.

Kowalski groaned, "Where are the girls?"

"Good luck," Skipper grinned. Kowalski slowly trudged over to the group. She looked up to see Blowhole grinning at her like a maniac.

"You're Juliet," he greeted her.

"Uh," Kowalski rubbed her arms nervously. "We're doing Romeo and Juliet, am I correct? So, if I am to be the damsel in distress, who will be Romeo?" She looked over to one of the guys, Fred. "Do you want to be Juliet, Fred?" She quickly asked the boy. He turned his buckskin teeth towards her and stared at her for a while.

"No," he finally answered.

"Oh, come on," Blowhole said. "We have a perfectly good girl here, why should we use Fred? Anyway, I'm Romeo." Kowalski rolled her eyes as Blowhole flashed her another perverted grin.

"So…" The other guy, Archie, said. "What are we doing?"

Kowalski brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face and bend over the sheet, "So Romeo's and Juliet's families are enemies, right? Romeo is lovesick about this girl that he knows, but she doesn't want him. He goes with his friends to this party and… and…" Kowalski looked up to see Blowhole drinking her coke. "Uhm, sorry, Blowhole, that's mine," she said. The guy cast a guilty glance at her, then gave her back her coke. "Thanks," Kowalski continued. "Anyway, where he meets Juliet and they dance, Romeo falling in love with her. Later he goes to her garden, the classic Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo scene plays and ends with Juliet agreeing to marry Romeo."

"Yeah, and then the wedding night," Blowhole grinned.

"Which we are not acting out," Kowalski shook her head. "However, the cousin of Romeo and the cousin of Juliet gets into a fight and Juliet's cousin ends up killing Romeo's cousin. Romeo comes and sees the havoc, then avenges himself by killing Juliet's cousin. He finds Juliet crying in her bedroom, however, they still marry in secret by a priest. Even though Juliet's engaged to Paris, some rich hotshot. After they marry-"

"The wedding night?" Blowhole asked excitedly and Kowalski punched him in the shoulder.

"Come on, stop," Kowalski ordered him. "Anyway, after they marry and enjoy the… night, Romeo leaves the country for a while, because he got banished or something… in the meantime, Juliet can't confess to her father that she's married to Romeo and he urges her to marry Paris. Juliet agrees, but seeks help from a priest, who gives her poison that makes her seem dead. Juliet drinks it, but the letter she wrote, explaining the plan to Romeo, never arrives and Romeo, returning from his absence, believes Juliet really is dead. He drinks real poison and dies. When Juliet wakes up, she finds her lover dead at her feet and stabs herself."

"And they died happily ever after," Fred grinned after a minute of silence.

"We're so doing the wedding night," Blowhole nodded vigorously.

"No way!" Kowalski shook her head. "So not!"

"Well," Blowhole stood up, Archie and Fred following his example. "Let's do the party, right?" He grabbed Kowalski's wrists and forced her to stand. Kowalski went to stand in the corner of the stage and waited for Blowhole and Archie, playing Romeo's cousin, to come on stage.

"Wow, look a hot chic," Blowhole said, coming on the stage, pretending to be drunk. "Hello, pretty lady!"

"That's what you call acting?" Kowalski whispered quietly to him as he came nearer.

"Shall we dance?"

"What?" Kowalski gasped. Blowhole grabbed her wrists again, pulling her forward, then put his hand on her back, taking her other hand.

"Uhm," Kowalski placed her hand in his, then put her hand on his shoulder.

"You actually put your hand on my arm." Blowhole said quietly. He was taking dancing lessons at some expensive place, which Kowalski was not. Kowalski blushed. She had assumed, that's how you dance from all the Disney movies she watched, but okay. She put her hand on his arm. Suddenly, Blowhole started stepping around the stage, taking her with him. Kowalski didn't know what to think. It was a little weird for her scientific mind and she definitely didn't feel like she was dancing on clouds or something. Blowhole had a sort of heaviness to her that she didn't understand.

"I think we can stop now, right?" she asked Blowhole. "Thanks, Romeo."

"Tell me, what is your name?"

"Uhm, I can't tell you."

Blowhole released her and Kowalski quickly went off stage, not knowing what to think.

"Hey, who's the hot chick I just danced with?" Blowhole asked Fred, playing the douchebag. Kowalski rolled her eyes at him.

"Uhm," Fred answered. "Why are you dancing with your lunch?"

"Hot chick, man, not hot chicken!" Blowhole facepalmed, then exited stage.

Kowalski went on the stage again, hand on her heart.

"Romeo, Romeo, wherefore are thou, Romeo?"

"Oh Juliet, I love you!" Kowalski found Blowhole kneeling at her feet. "Will you marry me?" He took Kowalski's hand, clutching it tightly.

"Uhm," Kowalski said, speechlessly. "Get up!"

"No," Blowhole answered, grinning wickedly. A thought crossed Kowalski's mind and she made sure that he was talking to her face by kneeling in front of him. "Marry me, Juliet."

Kowalski giggled, "I don't think so."

"Wow, she's such a bad actor," Archie whispered to Fred. "We should ask someone else to be Juliet." Kowalski's face heated up.

"Alright, I will," she answered to Blowhole and quickly put her arms around him. "Let's marry!"

Blowhole grinned, then leaned back and Kowalski stumbled into his body, "Ow." She quickly rolled to the side, then glared at Blowhole.

"Anyway," Blowhole smirked. "We've married and all that, now let's do the wedding night!"

"No way," Kowalski laughed. "I am so not…" Blowhole took hold of her wrists again. "Oh come on." Blowhole grinned and started dragging the girl toward the door, leading to the storage area. It was where the last group had performed, a guy playing a girl getting raped by another guy, and their sound effects were… extreme. Kowalski struggled, but Blowhole's grip on her wrists tightened. Sure, she knew self-defense, but she didn't want to hurt Blowhole. She squirmed, but watched helplessly as Blowhole opened the door. Inside was total blackness and Kowalski gulped.

"This isn't necessary," she said, struggling again. Blowhole just smirked and half-pushed her in, when a voice stopped them. Thank goodness for teachers!

"Hey, I think we don't have to act that part out," Ms. Stick shouted out, coming towards their group.

"Thank you!" Kowalski called out in relief as Blowhole let go of her wrists. She glared at the guy in front of her, rubbing her wrists.

"What a gentleman!" she said sarcastically.


	3. Dentist Visit

Kowalski dumped her bags on the kitchen table, then buried her head in her arms. A second later, she slowly raised her head to stare at the calendar in front of her.

**Dentist Appointment at 3. **

Kowalski looked at her watch. Half past 2. She sighed, getting up and walking to the bathroom. Picking up her pink toothbrush, the girl squirted some toothpaste on it and watched herself brush her teeth in the mirror. Her eyes seemed too large for her face, they were big and frightened, a deep ocean of blue. She blinked and the illusion faded away. Sighing, she set her toothbrush down and spit out the paste with some water, then grinned at herself in the mirror, knowing very well the grin was fake.

"Dentist," she murmured, tears springing to her eyes.

30 minutes later, the girl stood at the secretary's office.

"You are Kowalski R. Zcharoswski?" the middle-aged bespectacled woman asked the girl.

"Yes, ma`am," Kowalski answered meekly. She shifted her purse, then sighed. "Can I go to the waiting room?"

"Please do," the woman answered, peeking over the rims of her glasses, then exclaiming, "But, dear, you're shivering!"

"No, I'm not," Kowalski answered with a tight smile. "I'm hyperventilating. Excuse me." She looked around to find the sign to the waiting room. "Ah.." she reached for the door knob and slowly pushed it down, drops of sweat rolling down her neck.

Cheerful music greeted her and a bunch of kids looked up at her, sitting on the laps of their parents.

"Good day," Kowalski greeted politely, then looking for a place to sit, she walked over to a couch and plopped down. The kids turned back to their picture books. Kowalski sighed again, then inspected the room carefully. The walls were padded with diverse colorful pictures of happy children and unnatural smiles. The seats in the waiting room were comfortable and there was a stack of magazines in front of Kowalski on a little table. The girl took a Gossip Glossip issue and flipped through it when her eyes fell on another magazine. Health Science Daily? She eagerly browsed through it and was reading an article about the Dangers of Medications when a voice called her name.

"Kowalski Zcharoswski!"

The children looked at her with pity. Kowalski's head spun and she quickly stood up, getting red. The dreaded moment had finally arrived. What if she fainted? What if she barfed right into the dentist's face? What if-

The girl came into a white room with a big chair, the kind that you lean back in, and that distinct dentist smell.

"Hello," she was greeted by the assistant. "Would you sit down, we'll be right there in a moment, alright?" Kowalski nodded, unable to speak. She sat on the chair and leaned back, but unwilling to lay down all the way. Nervously, Kowalski started to recite the different squared numbers. 1 squared is 1, 2 squared is 4, 3 squared is 9, 4 squared is 16, 5 squared is 25, 6 squared is 36,…

"Hello," the dentist came in. She had black colored hair in a ponytail, was wearing a white uniform and a cold smile. "I'm Dr. White. Shall we look at your teeth now?" She put on translucent gloves.

Kowalski leaned back into the chair, her lower lip throbbing. She opened her mouth fearfully as the dentist started poking around in her mouth.

"Hmm, there's this tooth that definitely needs to be pulled," Dr. White explained. "It's stopping the other tooth from coming out, which means you'd have very uneven teeth in two years. I recommend treating this as soon as possible. In fact, why don't we pull the one tooth right now?"

"N-n-n-ow?"

"Yes, now, Lisa? Please come here!"

Tears sprung to Kowalski's eyes and suddenly they were rolling down her cheeks, her lips wouldn't stop trembling and she was hating herself for being a cry baby.

"I-I'm-m so-orry!" Kowalski cried. Dr. White exchanged glances with her assistant, then rolled her eyes behind Kowalski's back.

"Don't worry, we'll give you something against the pain," Dr. White took out a syringe. Kowalski felt a hand on her knee and knowing it was the assistant's, she opened her mouth again, the tears still flowing. Something sharp was injected into her mouth and it hurt a little. Kowalski breathed in and out, waiting for the syringe to come out.

"See, that wasn't so bad," the assistant comforted Kowalski as the syringe came out. Kowalski felt her lips slowly losing feeling and she wiped her tears away in embarrassment.

"Now," Dr. White said. "Lean back, we'll have the tooth out in no time." Kowalski leaned back, gripping the edges of her seat. The woman bent over her and Kowalski felt something scraping the insides of her mouth.

"That's it," Dr. White suddenly said as she gave Kowalski a pad to bite into.

"That's it?" Kowalski said in astonishment as she put the pad into her mouth to stop the flooding. She had thought it was just the beginning. Happy, almost euphoric, the girl left the seat and prepared to go out of the door after thanking the dentist, when the assistant caught her and put something into her hand. Kowalski looked at it; it was a tissue folded together.

"Inside is your tooth," the assistant whispered to Kowalski.

"Thank you," Kowalski smiled happily.

So maybe the dentist wasn't so bad.

"Oh," Dr. White said as Kowalski left the room. "And please talk to Tina, the secretary, about your braces."

BRACES?


	4. And in Basketball

The next day, Kowalski was heading toward the changing room for P.E.. In her hand, she held purple pants that were a little too long for her and her blue tanktop. She knocked on the door to the changing room and Marlene opened her.

"Heyyyy," Marlene chirped. She wasn't changing when most of the girls were down to their underwear.

"Aren't you going to participate, Marlene?" Kowalski asked her.

"Nah, I'm sick," Marlene explained. She pointed to her throat. "Sore throat."

"Oh, okay. Get better soon."

Kowalski took off her shirt and started changing.

"Hey, guess what?" A familiar voice sounded next to her. "You know how you had to skip Art because you went to the dentist yesterday?" Kowalski looked at Skipper, an eyebrow raised. "Yeah, so you had to go through pain and the teacher told ME that my painting was sweet!" She grinned smugly.

"Uh huh," Kowalski rolled up the legs of her purple pants, then looked into the mirror. She opened her hair, then made herself a ponytail. She stuck her tongue out at herself in the mirror, then grinned, leaving the changing room.

"Hello girls," the P.E. teacher greeted the assembled girls, sitting in a half circle around her. Kowalski detested having gender-separated P.E. classes; in her old school, the girl used to participate P.E. with the whole class. "As you can plainly see," the teacher went on. "I have a stack of basketballs right next to me. There are also two benches located in the gym room." Indeed, they were. "And two mats right behind them." The two benches were located right behind each other in a row, the two mats ending their assembly. "First," the gym teacher introduced the lesson. "We will practice some of our basketball skills. In the second hour, we will play Basketball, alright?"

"ALRIGHT!" Skipper shouted, fistpumping the air. She was the most feared basketball player, between her and the goal were only a handful of girls that she could easily push out of the way. Kowalski sometimes doubted that Skipper wasn't confusing Basketball with American Football.

"Grab a ball and start dribbling around the gym with one hand!" the teacher ordered and Kowalski trudged after the girls hurrying to get the best ball. She took out a ball, it was purple, and started dribbling it. But the ball had its own will and soon it was bouncing all over the gym wall, everywhere, except in Kowalski's area. The tall girl blushed heavily and ran after it, almost stumbling into Skipper, who was running around the gym hall like a maniac, dribbling her basketball in excitement.

"Alright," the teacher finally approved. "I want you to dribble the basketballs on the benches, then tuck the balls in at your shoulder and do a front roll."

"Awesome," Skipper nodded to Kowalski, who got behind her in the line.

"So not," Kowalski whispered back. "I can't do a front roll." She watched nervously as the girls in front of her performed the task. Finally, she quickly skipped out of line and reached the teacher.

"Uhm, teacher, I can't do this," she murmured. "I haven't learned to do a frontroll in my old school."

"Well, it's required for the 10th form," the teacher raised an eyebrow. "You have to try."

"But, ma'am, I can't!" Kowalski answered quickly. "I already know I can't, the last time I tried one was in Primary!"

"No excuses, Kowalski, now get back into the line!" The teacher barked and Kowalski, clutching her ball, moved back into the line. Skipper in front of her performed the task with ease. Finally it was Kowalski's turn. She started dribbling the ball beside the bench, trying to keep her balance and not losing the ball. Finally, after what seemed like years, she reached the mat. The girl already knew she wouldn't make it. She quickly glanced over at the teacher. The gym teacher was currently talking to another teacher in a gym outfit and Kowalski dropped to knees, then stood up, pretending to have done the roll.

She moved back into the line, watching the two teachers talk, when a guy with baggy gym shorts that showed off his skinny, skinny legs came into. Oh great! What was Blowhole doing here? He noticed her and gave her one of his perverted grins.

"Alright, now form teams of three and practice your dribbling skills!" The teacher commanded the girls. "Blowhole is joining for this P.E. lesson."

"How's that?" Kowalski asked the boy coming to stand next to her in a low voice.

"I've got a cold," Blowhole whispered back. "The rest are outside, so I'm joining this class."

"Teams of three!" The teacher reminded the girls. The girls quickly joined groups, Kowalski joined Skipper and Leonarda, a shy girl with braces. Blowhole stood a little forlornly in the middle of the gym hall until the teacher noticed him and quickly looked around. "You can join this group," she finally announced, pointing to the group of Mason, Phil and Burt. Blowhole obediently joined them, but not before casting a glance at Kowalski's group.

"Well, girls!" Skipper commanded. "Let's do the dribbling!" She shot a ball and knocked Leonarda on to her back. "Oh sorry."

"Can't you ever leave me alone?" Leonarda shot back angrily as she dusted herself off.

"I don't think Skipper meant harm," Kowalski meekly said.

"Pfft, why would I?" Skipper dribbled the ball around her hips, then shot the ball to Kowalski, who caught it over her head, then passed it to Leonarda. It hit her in the chin as it bounced up from the ground to meet her

"OW!" Leonarda shouted. She glared at Kowalski, who blushed.

"That wasn't on purpose," Kowalski immediately apologized.

"This sucks," Skipper rolled her eyes and tried shooting for a goal, missing. She gritted her teeth, dribbled the ball a little nearer to the goal and shot again, this time, scoring. "Ha!" Kowalski cast a quick glance over to Blowhole. To her disgust, he was peeking down a girl's collar while handing her the ball. She giggled when she noticed his action and tugged at her collar.

"Naughty, naughty," she teased him.

"Only when you're around," Blowhole flirted and Kowalski's heart sank. Not that she was jealous or anything, but Blowhole shouldn't be like THAT to every girl, right? Right?

"Oh mama nature, I hate this guy," Skipper narrowed her eyes at Blowhole. "He's such a stuck-up suck up!" Her face lightened up in a smile. "Wow, did you get that?"

"Ya," Leonarda rolled her eyes. "That was the lamest joke ever!"

"Hey, Leonarda, catch!" Skipper suddenly shot the basketball at her with a wicked smile and it hit Leonarda into her chest.

"Ow!" Leonarda shrieked, clutching her chest. Blowhole looked over at the commotion and suddenly grinned at Leonarda. Kowalski turned away in disgust. The tall guy slowly started walking their direction, all the while grinning at Leonarda, who was oblivious to what was happening.

"There you go," the gym teacher suddenly thrust a shirt at Blowhole. "You're on the red team." Kowalski looked to see some of the other girls also wearing the red shirt. "You, too," the gym teacher told Kowalski as she handed the girl a red shirt. Kowalski grimaced at the smell of the unwashed shirt, but put it on gladly. Very gladly, because she would be on Blowhole's team.

Though not because she wanted to play with him, she just didn't want to play against him. Something inside of her told her that he would use a lot of his arms and body to block the basketball players and she didn't want to be the one he got his hands all over.

"Awesome," Blowhole grinned at her as he came over. "So we're on a team together?"

"Yeah," Kowalski smiled at him, then joined the circle around two players from opposite teams. Marlene stood up from the bench she was sitting on and took the ball the teacher handed to her.

"Ready, set, go!" Marlene shouted and threw the ball in. Somehow Kowalski's hands managed to hold on to the basketball and she looked around as Skipper tried to take the ball away. Blowhole was urgently motioning to her to give him the ball and she shot it at him. With a grin, he started dribbling and within the first minute of the game, their team had scored two points.

"Alright," Kowalski cheered.

As the minutes went by, the Red team scored more and more points, while Skipper's team, the white team tried their best to even the score out. With no success. Kowalski grinned as Blowhole shot another goal. He high-fived some girls, then jogged toward Skipper, who suddenly held the ball in her hands.

"Prepare to lose the ball," Blowhole sneered.

"Prepare to lose the game," Skipper answered in disgust. She looked around, found one of her teammates ready to catch the ball and threw the ball. Blowhole, however, caught it in midair and Skipper stumbled to the side as he made his way to his goal.

"And another point for the Red team," Marlene answered. "That's 26 to 8!"

Kowalski grabbed the ball from another classmate and started dribbling it to her goal. Another girl blocked her and she looked around for someone to pass the ball to. Her eyes caught Skipper standing uselessly in the field. As Kowalski contemplated this, she lost the ball, a girl grabbing it and passing it to another teammember. Kowalski quickly ran over to Skipper.

"Hey, everything alright?" she asked.

"No," Skipper answered darkly.

"Well, what's up?" Kowalski asked again, concern in her voice.

"We're losing," Skipper snapped and left Kowalski behind. Although Kowalski found it rather pathetic, she thought about how she could cheer Skipper up.

"Hey, Kowalski, catch!" Kowalski quickly caught the ball thrown at her and dribbled it towards her goal, suddenly noticing Skipper right behind Blowhole to his left. A thousand thoughts flashed through the girl's mind and she threw it into Blowhole's direction, but aiming at Skipper. Skipper didn't catch it, unprepared for the turn of events and Blowhole rolled his eyes, thinking Kowalski just had a bad aim.

A few minutes later, Skipper came up to Kowalski, glaring at her, "I don't need anyone's help. If I win, I want to win it myself, not with cheating!"

"I was only trying to cheer you up," Kowalski blinked.

"Well, don't," Skipper snapped, leaving Kowalski behind once again. The girl stared at the retreating figure of her friend and something inside of her started boiling.

"You so did not," Kowalski thought angrily. "Skipper, you're dead!" She ran off into the direction of the ball, doing her best to make Skipper's team lose. Anger was her fuel, boiling anger that kept the girl going.

"You should come more often," the teacher told Blowhole after the game was over. His team was victorious with Skipper's team the losers, fair and square. The teacher turned to Kowalski. "Hey, you and the new kid, bring the bench (that the teacher had been sitting on) back to where it belongs!"

"She hates us," Skipper murmured to Kowalski as they picked the bench up together.

"Mhmm," Kowalski made.

"Look, I'm… you know… s-s-s- … that word. I didn't mean to snap at you like that."

"Alright, Skipper," Kowalski looked up at her friend. "But you know I was just trying to help."

"Yeah…"

"Hey, everyone's still scared of you at basketball," Kowalski encouraged her friend. "Blowhole's an asshole, don't worry about him."

When Kowalski came back into the changing room, a glance in the mirror showed her a red, red face. A headache settled in her head and Kowalski knew she had gone over her limits, trying to make Skipper lose.


	5. Don't Hold Your Breath

It rained outside. Kowalski sat at her favorite window with the view out to the small grassy area at their apartment. In her hands she held a book, one that she borrowed from the library the day before. It was the story about a girl, who got a scholarship at a rich kids' school. However, when she arrives, she breaks a very precious vase and has to join a club, where she plays the servant of the guys there and entertains the ladies. Kowalski could relate with the girl out of reasons she couldn't know. **(Who knows the story? ;D )**

She looked into the window, dotted with the raindrops, and saw her own reflection. Big blue eyes stared at her out of a thin face. Her ears were large and showed underneath her thin open hair. Kowalski sighed. Sometimes she hated herself. Sometimes she wished she could be someone different. Someone more fun, that wouldn't be stuck with a book on a rainy day.

She thought about her school life. Blowhole, well, he was just a guy and Kowalski wasn't interested in guys at the moment. There wasn't any special one that she could imagine she would be together with. Blowhole, he flirted and was annoying, but Kowalski knew that guys who were like that, just took advantage of the girls in their surroundings, but they weren't really interested.

Kowalski had often thought telling Blowhole to stop messing around with her, too, but... she never did. Kowalski guessed, it just felt... good in a way. Her mind flashed back to a scene that happened the day before, which thoroughly disgusted her.

Kowalski was currently sitting on the desk next to Blowhole, talking to him about their homework, when a dark-haired girl with blonde accents came over. Her name was Becky and she was known for her loud manners. She also had a twin sister called Stacy, but Stacy went to the parallel class.

"Heeeeeeeeey," Becky welcomed herself into the discussion. She looked at Blowhole's shoulder, then started poking it. "Wow, it's hard!" She started massaging his shoulder in glee. "Are those muscles or what?"

"Muscles," Blowhole smirked, while Kowalski watched in utter horror. Then he put his hand on Becky's back and felt around. "Are those your ribs?" he wondered. "Or your bra?"

Becky giggled, "Oh stop it, you!" She noticed Kowalski's stare and blushed. "Oh, look, we're just touching each other, how silly!"

"Yeah," Kowalski agreed. "You guys are like kindergarteners!" Blowhole flashed Becky a pervert smile.

"But it feels good," he grinned.

Back to reality, Kowalski put in her earphones from her phone.

**Don't hold your breath**

A smile crept up on Kowalski's features and she raised the book up to read. Whatver happened, nobody could break Kowalski R. Zcharoswski.

******You can't touch me now, there's no feeling left**

**If you think I'm coming back, don't hold your breath**

**What you did to me, boy, I can't forget**

**If you think I'm coming back, don't hold your breath****  
****I was under your spell for such a long time**

**Couldn't break the chains**

**You played with my hear**

**Tore me apart with all your lies and games****  
****It took all the strength I had**

**But I crawled up on my feet again**

**Now you're trying to lure me back**

**But no, those days are gone, my friend****  
****I loved you so much**

**That I thought someday that you could change**

**But all you brought me was a heart full of pain****  
****You can't touch me now, there's no feeling left**

**If you think I'm coming back, don't hold your breath**

**What you did to me, boy, I can't forget**

**If you think I'm coming back, don't hold your breath**

**Don't hold your breath****  
**


End file.
